So I'm walking around this cemetery at one A.M. I'm drinking mescal and I'm deep into Mexico. Normally this set of facts portends trouble to come.
Not this night. I am in Oaxaca, Mexico, surrounded by hundreds of Mexican families in a grizzled but highly decorated place of eternal rest. It is "The Day of the Dead" or "El Dia de los Muertos," a time to celebrate past lives.